


I Know You Feel Like You're Breaking Down

by emgerion



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone Is Gay, FTM John, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, M/M, Mental Health Issues, My First Fanfic, Non-Binary Peggy, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Trans Character, did i mention im trash, non-binary Lafayette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 02:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7783252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emgerion/pseuds/emgerion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At age 9 John Laurens realized he no longer could handle the thought of being a polite young lady with the only idea of getting married off and branding his name as "helpless"</p><p> </p><p>or John Laurens is going to college and let's hope for the best</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Teach Them How to Say Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> hello !! im Emerson and this is my first story!! it's lams and this is gonna suck :) 
> 
> warnings; there is mentions of blood, mutilating own body, and abuse, please if you're sensitive to such topics like these don't read this

The less you think, the more happy you are. The less you know, the more you can handle your happiness with no negatives. That is because you don't know what's bad. maybe you have an instinct saying this is wrong. But what if you find comfort in your parent's abuse? what if you feel reality put back together, as if puzzle pieces snapping together, when your father hits you? What if your mother crying while blood runs down her legs and the blade reflects the moons light, is how you live. What if you don't know much, and continue to smile all throughout your elementary school days. I don't even remember how I was so naive to not even know what was wrong and what was right back then. I don't remember how I would handle all of the bruises. I don't know how I got through the day, smiling, barely caring about what others thought of about me. 

But the damned day when my reality was shattered, was the day my whole world turned upside down. 

It was a time where all of the kids were in a circle on a mat in the classroom. Fourth grade. My teacher was sitting on a comfortable fully chair, while the kids sat criss cross applesauce. We were going to tell the class the happiest memories from home. as the kids were telling their tales, I kept going over mine to make sure I make no mistakes. I had to keep my reputation, what little of it I had, and my parents were not going to drag me into their grave. Even though I had confidence I was still introverted and withdrawn from other kids. I could remember my heart beating rapidly and a small smile on my face. My brain was full of excitement to tell my class about my home. Other kids would talk about how their siblings and their parents would watch Modern Family together, maybe getting a new family pet. 

It was soon my turn.

"Alright Jacky, let's hear it!" My teacher, Mrs. Duran encouraged me thinking I didn't have the guts to talk about anything. Boy was she in for a surprise.

"Well my favorite time of the day at home is 10:43 pm," I began my voice being the only thing you could hear in the room. It made me feel a little intimidated.

The kids looked around, my teacher had a look of shock. "10:43? on a school night?" she asked, obvious disbelief on her face. 

"Yes!" I then played with my fingers, a distraction from the kids whispering about my favorite time of the day. I had to wipe my clammy hands on my jeans, soothing myself. "My daddy comes into my room, he turns the lights on, his face is usually red, I think after work he goes to the gym, which is why his face is red," dumbass me, he is drunk! Why do you think any man would go to the gym after long hours of work? I swallowed, my throat dry. "And he usually comes into my room, and his hands-" I couldn't just say he slaps me, I need to be elegant and graceful with my words. my head span, screaming to not be too blunt about the topic. I don't really know why. "His hands are big. they are so wrinkly, his fingers are like sausages, his finger nails short and yellow, a whitish yellow, cream," I took another breathe, as I forgot to slow done with this. "His hand usually collides with my cheek, letting me feel all his wrinkles. His callouses from his hard work. Sometimes he just slaps me. Sometimes it's worse. Maybe punches, I don't know," my eyes began to leak out like faucets. Why? This is supposed to be happy. I hastily rubbed the tears away, making an awkward smile.

"When he leaves I hear my mother and him screaming," I choke out the words. It's so hard to say this. I don't get it. This is my happy moment to share about my family to other kids.

"And when I g-" my teacher cut me short.

"I think that's enough," my teacher said, void of any emotion. "Alright kids, gather your belongings from the closet and line up, the bell will ring in a minute," she stood up from her chair as the kids got up from the carpet, running to the closet excited about going home. "Jacky, please stay with me," I was still crying. 

"I don't understand," I whispered it so quietly, I could tell it was quiet. Mrs. Duran looked at me with a questioning look is how I could tell I was too quiet for any human to hear. but, but to me it was the loudest thing I've heard all day.

"Sorry, what was that?" she touched my shoulder trying to soothe me.

"Is this what sadness feels like?"

 

My father's reputation went so downhill after that we had to move to South Carolina, a place where people blindly followed my father who was a political man who believed in complete bullshit. My mother tried very hard to be stronger for me, She sang in Spanish to me. She was my best friend until freshman year. 

"You are only a selfish whore trying to protect a daughter like her getting into fights for complete and utter bullshit reasons!" Mom was especially sensitive when someone were to call her a whore. My mother had to get money some how when growing up, she had to provide for her family. What choice did she have? He knew it would push her buttons, he wanted to hurt her. Intentionally. That's how fucked up my father is. 

"God has damned this family enough, I don't need anymore sins in this household," He disappeared in the night. 

I was crying. I watched from afar, as my mother sat on the living room couch and he went out the front door. 

"Jacky, my sweet come here," She knew how I always wanted to comfort her, but instead I myself had cried and shook with fear. 

"Duérmete mi niño, duérmete mi amor," She sang quietly to me as I crawled onto the couch next to her, my head next to her legs. 

"Duérmete pedazo de mi corazón,"  
I sobbed louder at this, for this was the lullaby she sang to me in fourth grade. The grade we had to move because of me. 

"Este niño mío que nació de noche  
quiere que lo lleve a pasear en coche," I closed my eyes, focusing on my mother's beautiful voice that I could only pray to have. 

"Este niño mío que nació de día  
quiere que lo lleve a la dulcería.  
Duérmete mi niño, duérmete mi amor," My body slowly stopped shaking, my breathing levels were back to a normal speed. "duérmete pedazo de mi corazón," I drifted out of consciousness, as the warmth of my mother was the best blanket I could ask for. 

"te amo," my mother kissed my head while stroking my hair. " yo también te amo," I whispered back.

 

I can't say my mother was selfless or selfish. She was neither yet both. 

I woke up on the sparkling beige couch, but with no mother. I sat up and looked at the clock on the wall. 3:27 am.

"Mama?" I cautiously got up from the couch, wandering up our elegant stairs to my parent's room. "Mama?" I said, only louder. The little thumps from my padded feet hitting the wooden floor was the only sound I could hear. Mama wouldn't have left me on the couch alone. She would've usually slept with me on the couch, or at least try to carry or wake me up to send me to my room. Also, she would be crying by now, I just want to comfort her. Unless she is asleep? No. She usually doesn't sleep well, especially when my father leaves her late at night. 

She may be covering her sobbing with a pillow. My poor mama.  
I reached their room, the door was shut. Usually opened just 5 inches in case my siblings have a nightmare and need comfort. Like my father would have time for that, that's why I also leave my door open. I knocked, softly. I swallowed hard, the eeriness of the house being so quiet and dark was terrifying. My hands shook as I knocked harder. 

"Ma-" the door opened. My thought process was a wild fire, spreading so fast. This had to be the most cruel dre- nightmare my brain could muster up. 

God why? I actually had one thing I can agree on with my father. God has damned this family enough.

Her body, her beauty, still evident as she hung limply. The pale moonlight, contrasted the blood running down her wrists and thighs. Her lavender nightgown, oh dear Lord why. 

I felt like screaming, but when I tried to let my sorrows out, it was only in vain. "Mama?" my voice was so quiet. My heart was so much louder, my brain not even functioning. 

John, call the police, call the police, call the polic- My frantic thoughts were cut off when I heard the door slamming open. 

Fuck, that must be father. I screamed for my father, it was the only thing I could do. "Jacqueline?" My father's voice didn't sound like it was caring, more angry. "What is it? Especially at this hour?" 

"Come quickly please!" I heard loud footsteps coming up the stairs as a sob wrecked through my body. "F-father, sh-she u-um" I was hiccuping through my sentence as he came in the room, ran and pushed me out of the way and went up to my beautiful mama.  
"My love, what have you done?" He gently caressed my mother's face.  
"I s-should call the polic-"  
"No!" the shout could have woken up the neighborhood. "Why not?" I stood up from where I crumbled or got pushed down, and looked my father in the eyes. "Will it ruin your already tainted reputation?" 

It echoed throughout the room, the only thing that reminded me of what just happened was the sensation of pain tickling my cheek.  
"Go to hell," I spat, and ran out of my room, down the stairs. I need to get the phone, I need to get the phone. 

"Don't you dare!" He screamed. A madman, madman. Insane, he will do anything to keep a good reputation, he wants to be perfect. But humans have emotions and he can't cope with it. He is sick John, it's not your fault. I ran faster to the kitchen to the telephone on the wall. 

"911 what's your emergen-" I breathed in heavily, "Please help, we, I, I need help I'm the daughter of Senator Laruens, please send hel-" My father abruptly took the phone from my hands, instinct was to scream, but instead I scrambled away trying to remain calm. "You daughter of a whore!" He was outraged, I scrambled away. Upstairs? Protect my siblings or myself? 

I didn't have time to think. I could feel my life slipping, as the cold hard thing felt as if it was my life support. 

"Do anything and you're dead,"


	2. I am the one thing in life I can control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John really just needs a hug, and I need to learn how to write :,)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this is short !! i have a lot on my plate as of right now but I tried my best :,U

When the 16 year old daughter of a senator who is rich, privileged, and seems to have the world in her palm, almost kills herself, of course it will go all over the news. And that's exactly what they branded me off as, "Henry Lauren's daughter almost being sent to mental institution SpringBrook Behavioral Health System. Daughter is known to have major depression disorder, and at one point tempted suicide. The young teenagers these days are out of their minds..."

At around 2:00 am I called a suicide hotline. I didn't want to die, I just couldn't handle school, especially with the beatings. My father will forever be a cruel man. He will never learn. Most kids already deemed me as the outcast of school, but would never do anything because of my father. They feared him. I mean I do too. I didn't act like too much of a girl, because I am not a girl, no matter what is in between my legs. I was rowdy, I curse, and I get into too many fights. Usually I'm quiet, but down here in the south there is way too many ignorant people. I can't stand people who don't even try to get educated, and feign to ignorance. The only way I can feel satisfied is when I could feel my fist crunch under the pressure of skin. The adrenaline in my body is the thing I thrive from. 

But the adrenaline was leaving and fear took it's place. 

I had to walk to the closest hospital myself and admit myself. Walking into the emergency room, telling them what happened. Multiple people rushed around me, they took my vitals, made me change to a hospital night gown. 

Multiple questions were asked, questions I truly couldn't answer. 

"What led you to this point?" He was a short man with a mint green button up shirt with black dress pants. He had a combover, indifferent eyes that scared me. I was only another kid who he saw as someone who had nothing better to do than kill themselves. They were blue, not soft. His lips were thin, even more thin than they should be since he kept putting them in a thin line. I didn't answer his question. He sighed loudly. "Look kid, if you don't talk I can't help. I just want to help you out," I nodded. He rubbed his hands against his face. 

"Okay at least answer this," He paused clicking his pen and looking down at his papers. "Will you be safe at home?" 

"No," my voice was immediate, I almost cut him off. 

"Alright," He got up from his chair. "I will be looking for a bed at a hospital for you to stay at, and I will notify your parents about you being here," I felt as if my father was choking me all over again, I was losing oxygen and I felt lightheaded. I sobbed uncontrollably, only hearing the soft whispering of "don't tell him, don't tell him," 

"Jacqueline, I need you to breathe,"  
I hugged myself, burying myself hoping to disappear. "Jac-" The hand was tight and firm around my shoulder. I screamed, without fully realizing what was happening. I was a dog remembering who abused it, and I was barking at nothing. 

"Jacqueline breat-"

"It's John," I stammered out, my nails digging into my soft flesh. I couldn't help it. I knew when someone, specifically my mama would call me John my heart would just swell with happiness. 

"John?" I looked up at the nurse. She had pretty brown eyes, and brown hair. 

"Yes," I whispered, my breathing slowly coming back to me, the hand around my neck long gone. The nurse sat down. 

"John, are you comfortable with your body? As in being a girl?" I stared at the nurse. She must be crazy to think that I would talk to her about that, I wouldn't even talk to the man who was supposed to figure out why I wanted to commit suicide. "Ah, I should introduce myself, I'm Katie," she brought her hand for me to shake, I shook it half heartedly. 

"I'm going to be the nurse watching you until we send you to a hospital where you can feel comfortable," She let go of my hand, probably disgusted by how clammy they were. "Now I don't think you know this, but I can relate to you as being trans," She spoke lowly, almost as if she couldn't handle talking about it. 

"I am male to female," The shock on my face must have been evident, because she then said, "please don't say I don't look like I'm trans, because I find it quite rude when people say that," I felt like cotton was being shoved down my throat, it was so dry and I felt several little cracks form on the inside of my throat, slowly taking control of my ability to speak or not. 

I looked at her wide eyed, as if she were a goddess. "How did you come out?" She took a sharp intake of breath. "I mean if you're not comfortable with sharing you don't have to," I fiddled with my fingers, not making eye contact. 

"No worries John! I'll tell you," I looked up and my heart swelled with the bitterness of sadness yet sweetness of happiness when she called me John. And her smile, she was so kind. "My family was more then okay with it luckily, but mostly it was an internal struggle," I looked up at her, my eyes burning from the tears about to fall from how sweet the short story was. I wish mine was just an internal struggle. 

Stomping could be heard from down the hall, it was different from the other steps from the hall, it had authority over the people who actually ran the place 

"Jacqueline," firm, hard, deadly. "Jacqueline how are you?" I looked up, cotton down my throat and a hand clawing my tongue. "Father, I am fine," I tried to not have any weakness in my voice, no cracks, no cotton coming up. 

"She is anything but fine," my stomach churned. The man with the bad hair and mint green shirt with his stupid clipboard was back. "Mr. Laurens, your daughter will be sent to SpringBrook Behavioral Health System, she does not feel safe or stable enough to go back home," I looked at Katie, but she only toyed with her fingers while sitting next to my hospital bed. "No, my daughter will not be going to a mental hospital," 

"Then we shall discuss this outside, particularly away from your daughter," 

 

The drive to the Lauren's household coming back from hospital because the eldest daughter (son) had attempted to commit suicide could've gone better. It was completely silent. John wishes he went to the hospital, he couldn't stand going home. But his father had power and money. Something that could change every rule. He should have went. He could have been safe. Away from his father. But who would take care of his siblings? His dear Martha? John had to stay home until college, no more time wasted on unimportant things such as his emotions, only emotions that matter. Like his siblings. John will take all of the pain. It's simple right? 

His mom did it, all the way till John was a freshman. John can and will do it, for his family. It can't be that hard right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed !! I probably won't post any chapters until September ?? im not sure

**Author's Note:**

> I told you it sucks


End file.
